


Better Devils

by shxme



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst, Conflict of Interests, M/M, au au au, background cameos and ships, enemies to--more than that, its complicated okay, love having to tag a ship 3 times bcause its such a rare pair, marked explicit cause there WILL in fact be smut, slowish burn, spirit blossom characters but different staging, spiritual high society au, this is big au, thresh is a bastard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25997608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shxme/pseuds/shxme
Summary: The fragile peace of demonic high society is preserved by tradition and no small amount of shady manipulation. Thresh delights in the attention that comes with being a demon in the waking world, but dancing with mortals is not just moonlight and temptation.Some flowers grow with thorns.(updating once again)
Relationships: Thresh/Yone, Yone/Thresh, Yone/Thresh (League of Legends)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 114





	1. promenade

**Author's Note:**

> the title of this is named after one of my favorite D2 guns lol. 
> 
> listen i wrote out a lot of a thresh/yone fic set in canon, and then i wrote this instead. this is gonna be a longer fic, so the amount of chapters is just my estimation. will change it as necessary. also this pairing has pretty much NO FICS GEEZ.
> 
> i need to really clarify that although this fic features spirit blossom characters, the au itself is NOT spirit blossom. it's also not canon lol. i took a bunch of details and mushed them together to get this mess. all mistakes are my own. i get pretty nervous writing au's but i did put a lot of world building into this one. hope you like it.

The masquerade begins at sunset, as it always does. Thresh fancies the summer balls more than the winter ones, only because he prefers heat and cicadas to spiced wine and fur. There’s a reason he stays in Ionia after all, the weather is wonderful. 

Ionians have a fixation on nature and it shows in the way the “ballroom” is laid out. Truthfully, Thresh wouldn’t call it that. A clearing in the forest is very different from a Noxian amphitheatre. But—there is a charm to it. Moody lanterns hang from the trees and a small stage has been coaxed from the wood where a group of musicians sit warming up their instruments for the long night. There’s something _wildly_ elegant about it that Thresh adores. It reminds him of how the masquerades used to be hundreds of years ago. Far less stuffy than what they’ve become now. Looking up above the clearing he admires the way the towering branches have been woven together into an intricate spiraling canopy. _Fascinating._

Thresh has arrived early on purpose. He enjoys watching souls almost as much as he enjoys collecting them. There’s so much to be learned from the way guests act. The newest lesser devils always arrive first. Their robes and masks are never anything special and they’re nervous because it’s only the first or second ball they’ve ever been invited to. Most of them will hang around the edge of the glade, waiting for more company to show up. A few will be foolish enough to march around proudly. _Proud of being a lesser devil,_ Thresh smiles to himself behind his mask. _How simpleminded._ Any mortal can be granted that title—lesser devil, lesser demon—if they’ve done something bad enough. It’s nothing to be proud of. Only a jumping off point for the souls who are actually insatiable.

He sits at the outskirts of the clearing where wooden tables and chairs have been set out. Colorful flowers are arranged at the center of each table. Purple blooms and glowing pink petals and narrow blue ferns. Thresh watches the lesser devils talk among themselves and the musicians start to churn out a gentle tune. Nothing for dancing yet, but soon. No one approaches him and Thresh can’t blame their caution. He’s not some petty demon, he’s the _real deal._ Everyone knows his name and even though he might look human from a distance, there are the parts of him that never change. The horns and the ears and the fangs. 

Village elders and other influential Ionians arrive next, mostly by cart or horseback. All the important humans and their partners who are privileged enough to receive an invitation. Many of them are old and gray and they crowd together, greeting each other sociably. Thresh can tell which humans are from the largest villages because they are followed closely by a servant. By now the music has transitioned into something more festive and the mood sparks like fireflies. Thresh takes the opportunity to mingle, skirting along the edge of the crowd to rope a few elders into conversation. He picks the oldest ones because he knows they won’t last much longer and they know that too. 

“Has the season found you well?” A wispy haired man—Elder Fai’le maybe—asks him from behind a dark blue mask. It’s feathery and clearly modelled after a bird. His voice doesn’t shake and Thresh is proud of him for that.

“It certainly has,” he purrs. “I see it’s also treated you kindly. How is your province?” Thresh doesn’t _really_ care, however the prospect of a soul is always enough to warrant a quick word or two. He may be devious but he’s still polite. The rest of the elders orbit around them, listening to their conversation. Thresh isn’t the most fondly viewed—compared to other demons—but he’s still more powerful than anybody here and therefore someone worth paying attention to. 

“Still full of dirty Noxians,” Fai’le complains. “We will drive the stragglers out eventually.”

Over the crowd Thresh spots who arrives next. The first _real_ demon to always appear after him is the _fox._ Her nine tails billow behind her and the slight tension in the air is wiped away entirely as the mortals clamor to kiss her hand and welcome her fondly. Thresh abandons his current conversation to approach her, offering his hand out as an invitation.

“Don’t you look stunning.” He makes sure to layer his compliment as contemptuously as possible. 

Behind her white mask, Ahri’s electric blue eyes are narrow. “Thank you,” she says, voice sugarcoated as she takes his hand. Her delicate robes are trimmed with turquoise and gold. Grass is soft underfoot and the music is spirited as Thresh leads her to the middle of the glade. Around them mortals also gather in pairs. 

“We missed you in the winter.” Thresh’s free hand finds her waist and they step back and forth, flowing against each other. Deceptively friendly.

“Yes well, I can’t possibly come to every solstice dance.”

“I suppose, though it is a shame considering how much everyone loves you.”

Her ears twitch. “Are you bitter?”

Thresh chuckles, claws digging lightly into her waist. “Hardly. Honestly I’m _impressed_ that you could care enough about mortals in the first place.”

She spins, tails swirling around her before facing him again. The glade is beginning to fill with people. “I guide them when I can. You have no room to talk about care.”

His mask clicks against the snout of her fox-faced disguise when he leans forward. “Oh mortal souls are so _sweet,_ that’s true, but once a demon, always a demon.”

Ahri abruptly breaks away from him. “Thanks for the dance, Thresh. I’m grateful I only have to see you four times a year.”

The next hour and a half is spent socializing. As it always goes when surrounded by weak minds, Thresh soon finds himself trailed by a handful of humans. No doubt they want power, but their desire will only fester around him. The smart ones are always the hardest to catch because they will not wander too close and get lost in obsession.

He ropes Karma (not a demon, just a spirit) into a quick dance because he’s bored of luring humans. Once they’re hooked they’ll fall over themselves for the opportunity to dance with him. Afterwards he finds Zed leaning against a tree by himself, watching the festivities. Out of all the lesser devils Thresh knows, Zed is one of his favorites. He’s watched him evolve over many years from a simple traitorous acolyte to a feared shadow. 

“Alone tonight? Where’s your pupil?” He asks, and the white haired man nods courteously towards him.

“Away,” he answers. “I won’t stay long.” 

“A pity, you’re far more exciting than most other mortals here.”

Zed’s black mask only covers the top half of his face so Thresh can see the way his lips quirk into a dry smile. “Why do you bother coming?”

Thresh glances out across the crowd. “I like to find flowers before they bloom.” He can almost feel the weight of his lantern under his hand. If he wanted to he could call it out of thin air except—there’s no soul here that he’s interested in enough to collect besides _Zed_ and Thresh isn’t in a hurry so he can let him go for a few more years. Anyway it’d be bad form to disrupt a solstice masquerade like that.

To clarify, he wouldn’t refuse a soul if it was offered. A demon is a demon and a soul is a soul and every spirit he claims is treasured, but Thresh has existed for _so long,_ he can afford to be a little selective with his collecting. Besides, it’s more fun when he can rope them in—the strong ones, not the weak willed orbiters. Zed and his student will find their way into his lantern eventually, and _then_ he can capture the weaker ones. Who else—

A familiar dark ponytail catches his attention. Thresh bids goodbye to Zed and crosses the grass to Yasuo, lingering on the outskirts by the band. Now _here’s_ a soul he could want. Delightfully tormented. A little worn out.

“What a surprise,” he greets him cheerily, fangs bared behind his bronze mask. “I didn’t think we’d see you again after last time.”

The mortal sighs. “I’ve decided to resign myself to this fate.” His mask is gray and simple, not sporting any of the decorative horns that lesser demons usually wear on their disguises. Thresh notices how his sword is strapped to his waist, must never go anywhere without it. Yasuo’s held an invitation to the solstice balls for a few years now, but he’d shown up for the first time only last winter. All the elders and mortals still stay away from him, sending disdainful looks in his direction. _Xiiri_ they call him, even to his face _. Unwanted._

“There are perks to being named a lesser devil. Perhaps you will grow to enjoy your future.” 

Yasuo shrugs. He’s not particularly well dressed for the occasion. The sleeves of his robe are frayed and there is a faint stain on his collar. Thresh is willing to wager that this is probably the exact outfit he wore _last_ solstice. “I will gain nothing by it.”

“You could.” Thresh casts his line. “There’s _potential_ for someone like you.” He’s looking for the barest hint of desire. Something to sway him with—but all he sees in Yasuo’s eyes is guilt. “Think about it.” 

The crowd is murmuring loudly behind him and Thresh turns to glance at the guests. The music has lulled into a slow, nearly romantic tune buy barely anyone is dancing. He makes his way to the other side of the clearing, moving like a phantom through the crowd. What is everyone worked up about? 

_“Who’s that?”_ He hears someone murmur. 

On the other side of the rabble Ahri stands—still prim and pretty—in front of a demon. This by itself is unsurprising, except it’s a demon that Thresh has never seen before. He _must_ be one—lesser devils don’t have horns—but how can that be? Ahri looks equally as confused, tails thrashing behind her.

The strange spirit shifts from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. He awkwardly offers his hand to Ahri and after a moment’s pause she takes it. Relief sweeps over the gawking crowd like a sigh. The musicians return to plucking strings and this time they find more life in their tune.

Thresh stares at the newcomer, appreciates the sight of him. Snowy hair is tied neatly down his back and his elaborate robes clash with the sharp mask covering half his face. Ahri must be talking to him since his mouth moves and he says _something_ but it’s too quiet for Thresh to hear.

He waits impatiently for the song to be over with and as soon as the final notes fade into the start of the next tune Thresh approaches them.

“My dearest Ahri,” he addresses her almost mockingly. “Let me cut in.” The stranger’s eyes are glaringly bright. A blue that almost stings to look at. 

Thresh feels, rather than sees, the dangerous swell of power around her. He’s really ticked Ahri off, not that he cares. She steps away from the newcomer, ears pinned back in irritation. “Maybe you’ll get more answers out of him than I can.”

At first Thresh almost thinks that the stranger won’t dance with him at all, until—reluctantly—he fits their fingers together. For a moment they are both uncoordinated as they figure out who’s leading. The other demon is taller but eventually he gives in to Thresh (they always do) and puts his free hand on his shoulder. His right arm is gloved entirely in black silk.

“You arrived so late to the party,” Thresh starts, innocently enough. “Is this your first solstice?”

“It is,” the demon responds and Thresh likes his voice. Likes the way it sounds. 

“Where are you from? Across the sea?”

“Ionia.”

Thresh tilts his head. Well he does look Ionian, but— “I’ve never seen you before.”

The spirit looks away and the azure ribbons braided into his hair swing gracefully. Thresh wonders what he looks like beneath that ugly mask. _Fascinating,_ if his eyes are anything to go by.

“Do you know who I am?” Thresh tries again, a different, more self-serving approach this time. He wants his attention and his attention alone.

“Thresh.” It’s _thrilling_ to hear him say his name. He locks the sound of it in his head. “A demon of obsession.”

He laughs, pivoting with the music. “I prefer the term _greater_ demon, if you’re going to address me so formally. _Better devil,_ if you want a more modern title.

Something goes tense in the stranger’s posture. Behind his mask, Thresh frowns. The longer he spends with this— _creature,_ the more acutely he’s aware of how _different_ he is. There is something weird woven into his soul and Thresh can’t figure out what it is and he _wants_ it. Forget Zed, forget Yasuo. If he wasn’t a demon Thresh would capture him so fast he’d have no room to breathe. He’d been long lamenting about the state of his collection and right now his biggest disappointment is that he cannot have this soul.

“What’s your name?” 

The spirit doesn’t reply, lips pressed together in a thin line. Thresh gets the impression that he might never get an answer to that question at all. Why not? What harm is there in it?

“How mysterious,” he sighs, nearly pouts. “I’ll admit you hold my interest. Can you blame me? You’re eye-catching.” Maybe compliments will draw out some answers. “Not to mention that it’s been a hundred years since our newest demon.”

The song isn't over but the stranger’s gone stiff, looking past him towards the lively mob of guests and the talented musicians. Thresh glances over his shoulder, trying to figure out what’s spooked him. He doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary besides Ahri who lurks nearby, clearly watching.

“What is it?”

Unfortunately, the demon pulls away from him, bowing his head curtly. “I’m sorry to cut this short,” he mutters, not sounding sorry at all. “But I have to leave.”

Thresh checks behind him again. _What did you see?_ “So soon?” When he looks back the spirit is already eight paces away and a moment later he is farther and then suddenly gone between the trees entirely, as if he’d never showed up in the first place.

“Did he tell you anything?” Ahri prods. “He hardly spoke to me.”

Thresh scowls, glad that she can’t see his face. “He told me plenty,” he lies because Ahri will despise not knowing. She hates being left in the dark even more than Thresh does. _That’s just how demons are,_ he thinks. Once you live in humanity’s limelight for long enough you decide you’re entitled to just about anything. Her displeasure is obvious and for a moment her fingers are sharper—body brighter, spirit swelling—until she regains her composure. 

“It’d be much easier if we worked together. I’m sure there’s some information we can trade. He’s—strange.”

 _She’d felt it too then. How odd he was._ Thresh shakes his head. “I’ll keep what I have to myself since it makes your tails twist.

Ahri huffs. “You always sound so _snide_. No wonder humans like me better.” She stalks away before Thresh can respond. _An annoying fox._ She knows he prefers to have the last word. 

Mood officially soured, Thresh wanders to the back of the clearing again, refusing the dances offered to him by shallow minded mortals. Yasuo is still lingering by the stage. This time the bottom of his mask is tipped up and he’s sipping what must be wine from a wooden goblet. 

“Who was that?” 

Thresh runs a hand through his sable hair, makes sure his ponytail is still tied up securely. “I don’t know.” He feels disjointed, like the stranger had thrown him and the evening into disarray. A new demon? It can’t be—but he’d had horns so it _must_ be. 

At least this solstice ball has been more special than usual. It’s rare that Thresh is captivated so strongly. One moment he’d been unbothered and then the next he’d wanted him like nothing else. One way or another— _he wants him._ Whoever he is, _whatever_ he is. He _needs_ to collect him. If not his soul then at the very least his body. Thresh recalls the way he’d said his name. _Fascinating._ There’d been so much—there. So much _potential._ A demon with promise? How impossible.

He shivers with anticipation. It’ll be fun finding him again. Sooner or later it will happen and even as his hand practically burns from where their skin touched—there is no rush. 

Thresh has all the time in the world to lay his chains and prepare.


	2. rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> let's lay some more groundwork

The lesser devil is dead. Thresh can tell from afar because there’s no soul left in her at all. Bodies lack that spark when they’re dead. Disappointment rests heavy on his heart as he gets closer. It’ll take so _long_ to find that soul in the spirit realm and maybe he might never find it.

“What misery took place here?” He mutters aloud to himself. The woman—he doesn’t remember her name, just that she did something bad enough to become a devil—has been pierced through the heart in the middle of the empty road. A relatively painless death, all things considered. As painless as something like this could be. She belongs to the flies now. Thresh crouches down to see her face. Cheek pressed into the worn stone—she almost looks surprised.

“How unfortunate,” Thresh sighs, standing up. Had she been robbed? Despite being bloody her clothes are untouched. Perhaps she’d been carrying something precious. Or maybe it was just murder.

***

Kinkou temple is only an hour's walk from where he is. Thresh could travel faster but he’s always enjoyed the pleasant wanderings of the mortal world. In the spirit realm every light is brighter and the air is colored by drowsy endlessness.

Thresh might as well be addicted to humanity because there’s so much to _do_ here. Every mortal is deliciously flawed with their own set of menial desires and they’re _far_ more interesting to talk to than other demons. All other demons talk about is how much power they have, how many people ask for their counsel and how “crowds of pilgrims” visit their shrines. Boring boastful talk that he doesn’t care to hear.

The acolyte keeping watch at the temple entrance nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Thresh approach. He’s young. Almost trips welcoming him inside.

“Is Zed here?” Thresh asks. 

“Y-Yes,” the boy squeaks, face pale beyond belief. “I can show you to him—”

The demon waves his hand dismissively, marching past. “No need. I’ll find him myself.” He’ll let the boy relax. 

It’s been a while since he’s last visited Kinkou. It looks far too peaceful for what it’s now known for. Natural light washes warmth over the walls and the lofty corridors are braced by graceful arches. Thresh admires them as he walks down the east wing. He’s got a penchant for arches, archways, gates. Lanterns and chains too. Every demon has their own affinities that they’ve developed over millennia. Symbolism that echoes into every part of them.

At the end of the wide hallway is Zed’s room and Thresh doesn’t knock before going inside. It’s much darker than it was in the hall—no windows, Zed prefers his shade—and at the back of the dimly lit room Zed is sitting cross legged on his bed, clearly deep in some sort of meditative thought. At Thresh’s sudden entry he immediately scrambles to his feet and bows his head. 

“I wasn’t expecting you.” 

Thresh doesn’t bow back. “Nobody ever does.” He wanders to the wooden table in the center of the room, picking up whatever trinkets catch his eye along the way. A couple unlit candles are set out, clearly brand new. Thresh touches the wicks and energy sparks through his fingertips, setting the candles ablaze. Dancing pink fire quickly fades into the typical orange flame and when he looks up Zed is watching, gaze wary.

“How are you?” the demon asks, to be polite. “Is your student back?”

“No.” That answer is surprising. It’s been almost three days since the summer solstice and the boy hasn’t returned? Where did he run off to?

“Ah.” Thresh drums his fingernails into the wood. “I see. Perhaps that will make your task more difficult.”

The mortal tenses, stress collecting in his shoulders and the lines of his face. “My task?” He repeats carefully. His hair is pale but his bangs are short and his facial structure is different to what Thresh is looking for.

“I need you to find someone for me,” he reveals. “Do you remember, during the solstice, the white haired spirit. Blue horns? Red mask? Elegant?”

“I do remember.”

He thinks Zed might catch the hunger in his voice when he speaks. “Perfect.”

The mortal crosses his arms. “I thought all you spirits knew each other.”

Every candle in the room flickers at once. That’s one problem with the waking world. They ask so many questions. Thresh raises his hand to examine his fingernails. Sharp, not quite claws. He doesn’t like being forced to face the fact that sometimes he’s left in the dark. Thresh adores knowing petty struggles and timeless tortures. Adores being five steps ahead. 

“There are—exceptions.” Zed is lucky that Thresh enjoys his company. “I’m already searching the spirit realm. Put your students to work and help me find him.” He’s not asking and Zed knows that, but that doesn’t stop him from being resistant. Mortals are like that. Too unruly for their own good.

“Why do you want him?”

“Akana have their reasons.” Thresh won’t tell him more than that. He steps towards the door. “If you _do_ happen upon him then you know where to find me.”

The lesser devil squints. In the candlelight harsh shadows are cast across his face. “What would he think if I told him you were searching for him?”

Thresh pauses, his hand flat on the doorframe. _What would he think?_ He remembers the hesitance in the demon’s posture before he’d accepted his invitation to dance. 

“You know, Zed,” he says, voice razors, steel. “You’ve already committed so many atrocities, I’m excited to see what you’ll do with all your festering potential. What kind of flower will you bloom into? _Maybe_ in another decade you’ll be able to join us for an equinox.”

He only glances at Zed once as he opens the door. He looks tired. Human. Thresh leaves before he can say anything back.

***

In the day that follows Thresh returns to his shrine. It’s on the northwestern coast where the mouth of the Koeshin river meets the wide sea. There, in the shallow water, a hundred glowing candles surround his shrine, left by pilgrims and admirers. The monument itself is old. It was built too long ago and the archway’s sharp edges aren’t as defined anymore, worn away by time and touch. Honestly, Thresh has been thinking about having a new shrine built. One that wouldn’t require mortals to get their feet wet every time they visited. Ahri’s is raised on a hill and people visit her all the time hoping to catch a glimpse of her and her tails. 

Thresh frowns to himself. Mortals are always caught by what’s beautiful, but the souls that visit him do so when he’s not there to welcome them. Today he finds that someone has left a new candle and scattered a handful of red petals in the water. How long ago was that? What did the mortal look like? What was their soul like? He _hates_ not knowing. 

No matter. The demon shrugs off his annoyance. There is someone else on his mind.

With his bare feet sinking into the sand, Thresh breathes in the smell of salt and wind. Water laps at his ankles and he can feel currents of energy pulling at him like ocean waves. 

If someone was watching they would see him vanish into thin air. 

***

He’s standing exactly where he’d been before. Shallow water is warm on his skin and the sky is still clear—but it is not the same. The smell of salt has been replaced with something more mellow and there is no wind at all. In fact the air is completely still.

Thresh has fallen out of love with the spirit realm. It feels like nothing ever changes here. He steps back onto shore, blinking a couple times as his eyes adjust. Everything is more vibrant—even the sky is tinted with new shades of green and gold—but he still finds it emptier. Humans have so much to offer _._ Spirits always end up feeling hollow, in some way. 

It’s easy to get lost here. The beach blends into blue and purple woods so thick that light only reaches the grassy floor in fragments. Massive, mossy trunks are so tall they might as well be holding the sky up. If Thresh hasn’t already spent so much time here he’d probably wander aimlessly. Instead he journeys with a purpose. On the other side of the forest there will be a great plain, just like in the waking world except the colors will be different and the sun will reflect off the ground and tint everything golden. There will be a mountain range where there is none in reality and Ahri’s shrine will be there by the sleeping river. 

It’s a lot of ground to cover for one demon, but that can’t be helped. Thresh just wants to find— _him._ Fixation hasn’t reached him like this in millennia. Thinking about it, he isn’t sure why the strange demon’s stolen all of his attention. Perhaps, as he’d said before, it’s because he is _eye-catching._ He’d been a phantom where he’d stood. Graceful and far removed and clearly new to the world of spirits. A budding rose, what’s more beautiful than that? _How did you get here?_ Thresh will ask him. _What divine event brought you to reality?_ He wants to know it all. 

What does he look like under his mask? Thresh tries to imagine it, reconstructing the hidden parts of his face with his mind. None of his ideas seem right. The bridge of his nose or the hollows of his eyes don’t quite fit—but the longer he thinks about him, the more real he seems, until Thresh can practically see him standing between the trees. He looks exactly the same as he did during the solstice, regarding Thresh with a blank stare behind his red mask. 

“An uncut gem,” Thresh sighs to himself. He knows that this is only his imagination. The line between non-existence and reality is so thin in the spirit realm that fantasies and dreams can easily manifest if thought about for too long. In this case Thresh is not complaining.

He closes the gap between them and cards his hand through the demon’s long hair. It’d be silk between his claws. Long enough to pull and guide too, could wrap it thrice around his palm. Ahri goes on and on about guiding mortals but Thresh would _love_ the opportunity to show this fledgling demon how the world works. He holds his hand out and the imitation accepts it with the same amount of reluctance as before.

“So unsure of your place in the world.” Thresh draws him closer. “You’d listen to my every word, I think. Lost and precious.” He leans forward and presses his lips against the soft skin at the base of his neck. “And maybe you’d fight—at first, but then you’d quickly come to understand what I’m giving you.”

The apparition says nothing. Thresh imagines the sharp breath when he bites down, fangs sinking into his neck. Something quick. A mark to show that he’s been touched and taken. Thresh leans higher, nearer, and their lips are dangerously close to touching.

“I’ve never seen a demon with so much potential,” he whispers. “I almost wish you were human so I could have _all_ of you.” _That’s_ why he’s so interested, Thresh realizes. Because demons are only ever demons except—this one is _different._ This one is strange and brimming with possibility and that excites Thresh like no one else ever has.

The fantasy steps back with him and Thresh presses him against the trunk of a dreamy indigo oak. He’s no stranger to lust. That travels hand in hand with obsession. He fits one of his knees between the ghost’s legs. It’s easy to imagine him coming undone. Thresh thinks he’ll be easy to tame, sweet once indulgence has worked its magic. A gasp echoes between the trees and—would his voice be deeper? Maybe it would be—Thresh breathes in the sound, captures the _idea_ of someone so pliant and pretty. 

He looks up and the spirit’s eyes are balefully empty.

 _A pity._ In one breath, the fantasy dissipates into fine mist. Thresh mourns the loss to himself. It _was_ a pleasant distraction but that’s for the best. Hopefully it won’t be too long until he goes face to face with the real catch. After all, he didn’t come here to get swept up in idle daydreams. Demons come and go from the spirit realm all the time so it’s important for Thresh to visit periodically in case the stranger shows up.

The only problem is the spirit realm is _large._ It’s layered over the human world and it’s just as expansive if not more. Thresh can only search so much before time blends together and becomes absolutely meaningless. The chances of actually running into the spirit here is dauntingly slim. Eddies and swells of energy can sometimes direct souls into each other, but even that is fickle and in many cases unpredictable. Thresh might spend hours following wisps of power in endless circles. 

On the other side of the forest, just as the trees are clearing, he does find a demon. It’s not the demon he’s looking for. Ahri bats her eyelashes at him, skin shimmering with pale magic. 

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Thresh notes the seriousness in her face even as her voice remains coy as ever. “That makes one of us.”

Ahri’s tails twist around her as if they have a mind of their own. She practically dances closer, footsteps nearly floating across the tall grass in a decidedly nonhuman way. “There are lesser devils being killed, as I hope you’ve heard.” 

Thresh _hasn’t_ heard, actually. He remembers the woman he’d stumbled upon during the trip to Kinkou. He’d thought that she’d just been a victim to another random act of violence. Apparently not. This is news to him but for Ahri he nods his head like he’d already known. 

The demon turns away, ears flicking back sadly. “Lai is dead. And Khavori, Ro’nell—Illyen too as of yesterday.” She looks back at Thresh. “I know those names mean nothing to you.”

“They don’t.” He doesn’t care about the names of most mortals. Only the interesting ones attract his attention nowadays. “Why are you telling me?”

She presses her fingers together. Thresh finds himself holding his breath. He knows Ahri well enough to know when she’s going to say something important. “When have you last seen Yasuo?”

_Oh._

His sharp mind races to draw conclusions. The wound to that lesser devil had been very—simple. Narrow and clean impalement. A long, thin blade—like the one that never leaves Yasuo’s side—could easily be the weapon that caused it. And Yasuo himself is an outsider who, oddly enough, only just started showing up for the solstices despite being invited for years.

“They all died the same way,” Ahri adds. “The same wounds.”

Thresh twists one strand of his hair tightly around his finger. “I haven’t seen him since the ball.”

“Six days ago.”

 _Six days ago?_ Thresh had spent what felt like only a few hours in the spirit realm but already two and a half days have passed. That’s another thing he hates about this place. You can never tell how fast time is going. Sometimes a month passes in an instant and other times Thresh will return to the waking world and find only a second has escaped him. There _are_ methods to know exactly how time will fall but it’s convoluted and usually reserved for the equinoxes.

Ahri must be able to tell he’s unhappy with the knowledge but she doesn’t say anything. Time bothers her as well. It’s a grievance that every demon deals with so she doesn’t badger him about it. Thresh can’t say he would do the same for her.

“You must talk to him. Yasuo doesn’t strike me as one who’s looking for deeper powers. I’d like to believe it’s not him.” 

Internally, he bristles at the tone. Ahri ordering him around? “You’re the demon interested in _guiding.”_ He’s annoyed. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I’m busy and I don’t know where he lurks. You’ve bragged about how well you know him, so why don’t you prove it?” Ahri’s eyes gleam. She knows exactly what she’s doing. “Besides, I’m sure your old heart would break if he turned into a soul you couldn’t keep.”

Thresh scowls. She’s unfortunately right. Ahri’s put him in this position, and she knows it—and he knows it. Because although he’s acquainted with Yasuo, he doesn’t really _know_ Yasuo. Almost everyone has heard of him—a murderer and betrayer—but perhaps Thresh has tossed around mentions of their “friendship” a little too much, since refusing this now would be admitting to Ahri that he doesn’t know him as well as he’s claimed. What a _bother._

“I have errands of my own to run.”

“Then I’ll have to bring it up at the next equinox. I’m sure there will be others interested in punishing an aspiring devil.” She smiles sweetly at him.

His sharp nails dig into his palm as he clenches his fist behind his back. He and Ahri used to be close. She understands him like he understands her and that makes dealing with her frustrating.

“Careful Thresh, your eyes are shining.”

The demon blinks away his rising frustration and tosses his head. He forces the energy coiling around him to relax. “Fine,” he spits venomously. “I will talk to him.” 

“Thank you.” She looks as if she wants to say more, but she doesn’t.

Thresh inhales a deep breath of flat air. “I wonder how the mortals would treat you if they knew how you really are.”

As he vanishes from the dreaming plane he thinks he still hears Ahri’s biting response. 

“Like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like it’s already pretty clear but Thresh is not a reliable narrator at all. This is an important fact. i'd append character notes here but i think i still have a couple chapters or so before i can do that cause it might spoil a lot. 
> 
> sorry for not as much yone! this is slow burn after all and i have to lay down some setup to make this work lol. we'll meet him again really really soon. (though probably not exactly as thresh is imagining..)
> 
> ;^)


	3. the swan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow we're back huh??? apologies for the sizeable delay.

Finding Yasuo proves to be more difficult than Thresh has anticipated. He doesn’t delay in his travels this time, moving from town to town with little regard to mortals’ ogling or their stumbling, stuttering welcomes. Again and again Thresh asks about the drunkard. _Xiiri,_ the outcast. The lesser devil Yasuo. With every disappointing answer his annoyance only grows. 

Perhaps the white haired demon is back in the spirit realm and Thresh is not there to find him. Deep down a nagging worry distracts him. _What if Ahri finds him first?_ No doubt she’s been looking as well. What if she’s sent him on a wild goose chase to buy herself more time?

The dead body confirms that it’s not a wild goose chase. A lesser devil— _“Wai-lee,”_ the village elder calls him—has been laid out on a bed of flowers. Dead in exactly the same way, cut through the heart. Thresh stands over him for only a moment to admire how the colorful petals surround his stiff body. Lesser devils are never good people. They’ve all done something truly terrible at one point in their life because that’s what grants them the title in the first place. Still, humanity’s capacity for forgiveness never ceases to impress Thresh. Someone might murder a thousand souls and still find love and a warm bed waiting for them at the end of the night. 

He leaves the corpse to talk to the town elder. Without the man’s mask all the wrinkles on his skin are more pronounced and his age is evident. 

“I’m searching for Yasuo.” Thresh is not here to waste time on pleasantries.

The elder strokes his chin, gray eyes betraying his nervousness. “He’s not here,” he answers. “Gone as of a day ago, if I recall correctly.”

 _One day ago._ And meanwhile another murder. Finally he has something to go off of. “Where was he headed?” 

The man clears his throat. “I didn’t care to ask. Perhaps to the west.”

A lead. Success is sharp in his chest. There can only be so many towns until the coast. 

***

A mere few hours later he finds him. Three towns over in a village that can barely be called that considering how small it is. Thresh almost passes him on his way through until he spots him there, sitting under the shade of an old wisteria with his blade across his lap. He seems surprised to see Thresh as he approaches but really he looks exhausted more than anything else. There are dark circles under his eyes. 

“Finally,” Thresh greets him. “You wander too much.”

Yasuo squints up at him. He smells like alcohol. Mortal thrills. “I’m not used to people seeking out my company.”

“I can tell,” he says lightly. Thresh is annoyed but Yasuo doesn’t have to know that outright. “Get up. Rather unbecoming of a lesser devil.”

“Lesser devils are already rather unbecoming by themselves,” Yasuo answers tiredly. He gets to his feet anyway, adjusting the sword strapped to his waist and brushing dirt off his pants. 

“Your disdain is palpable.” 

“I didn’t ask to become this.”

“Few souls get what they ask for.” Thresh crosses his arms. Despite his hopes, Yasuo is not easing his suspicion. In this case, he’ll be direct. “Have you heard of all the killings? Lesser devils are being picked off all over the provinces.” 

For once, something pitiable crosses Yasuo’s face. “I have heard in passing.”

“Do you know how they were killed?” Thresh asks, gaze flickering to his scabbard.

“Ah,” Yasuo says quietly, sobering up. Of course he recognizes where this is going. “I didn’t do it.” He looks at the dirt. “Not since I was granted my title.” Thresh studies his face. He wouldn’t lie to a demon, would he? That would be bold, almost bolder than someone targeting lesser devils in the first place. The man looks wretched in the sun. Hungover and scruffy and _sad._ Not every lesser demon is pleased to have their title. Zed certainly wasn’t thrilled when he was first appointed even though he eventually grew into it. Yasuo had accepted his rank as a broken man.

He reaches down to snatch the hilt of Yasuo’s sword and pulls it free into the light. The metal flashes when he tilts it. 

“A single, piercing blow through the heart. Fitting of a blade such as your own.”

Yasuo’s expression has become more haggard. A creature that runs and runs. “I have _nothing_ to do with it. You know I was cleared of my accusations.”

 _Not your betrayal._ Thresh holds his venomous tongue. Now is not the time for needling remarks. His knowledge of the incident is muddy anyway, since Yasuo only caught his attention after he’d become a devil in the first place. Tragic, surely, but it’d be embarrassing to bring it up without knowing any of the details.

Well, he believes Yasuo. Honesty is written in his eyes and across the sad curve of his mouth. It’s a relief considering that the mortal’s soul is still perfectly attainable. Less messy this way.

“If someone’s targeting lesser devils, I wish they would hurry up with it,” the man admits. Thresh knows Yasuo is not looking for a fight. He’s looking for what comes after. Seeing such a tortured soul almost makes Thresh sad. This mortal has too much potential to be so despondent.

“Don’t wish for something so tragic,” he admonishes. “Death will come for everyone eventually. For mortals, anyway. It’s best to meet them on good terms.

Yasuo says nothing.

There’s an empty bottle in the grass. Thresh nudges it away with his foot. Perhaps he’s feeling charitable enough to offer real advice. “I would find something meaningful to fill your time with. You have so much promise. Far too much to waste your life as a drunk nomad.”

Something in Yasuo’s expression shuts down. He looks empty. A barren field, a silent day. Thresh tilts his head. What’s he thinking about? 

“I have nothing to do with whatever’s going on,” the swordsman mutters blankly. “If you don’t have anything else to ask me then I’ll be on my way.”

 _A wayward soul._ “Where will you go?”

Yasuo’s hand rests familiarly on the hilt of his sword. “Anywhere.”

Thresh doesn’t stop him when he leaves. Emotions are so delicate. Not _just_ emotions either. Mortals in their entirety are fragile and easily weighed down by a single sorrow. Every soul weathers their own unique suffering, their personal pain. _Beautiful,_ Thresh thinks. He can feel a chain ghost across his palm where his lantern is practically begging to materialize. With a quiet sigh Thresh brushes away the magic. _Not now._ Yasuo isn’t ready. Some ancient unfathomable instinct inside of him knows that Yasuo won’t be ready for many years, which is a pity, but oftentimes the best rewards are worth the wait. 

What now? He could find Ahri to tell her that Yasuo is innocent, operative word being _could_. Thresh won’t. _He_ knows that Yasuo is innocent. Knew that from just his mood, but if Ahri wants to know that then she can find him herself. Perhaps that will dissuade her from making him run her errands.

Now the hunt is back on for the nameless spirit, which is a task far more interesting and worthy of his time. Thresh breezes back out of the hamlet to the main road. The land around here is firmly rooted in wilderness and simple living. A lot of Ionia boils down to simple living and that’s one thing Thresh _doesn’t_ like about staying here. Across the sea many demons will occupy castles and gaudy halls like mortal royalty. The last time Thresh visited the kingdom of Noxus he’d been impressed by the finery. The wine, the modern chandeliers, the extravagance, the _respect._ That’s another thing. In Noxus the akana command a certain type of authority that makes mortals tremble.

For reasons beyond him it’s a type of reverence that Thresh fails to find here in Ionia. Perhaps that’s the trade off for the weather and the wild. Noxus does tend to feel suffocating if he stays too long. Something about the buildings. 

His idle thoughts have driven him to wander far off the common road where a dirt trail leads south through a series of grassy foothills. Thresh admires the silence of it. He doesn’t travel this way usually. Mortals are always more interesting to be around and this side of Ionia is empty, just like the northern parts past the mountains. Outcasts settle here. All the lesser devils and pariahs that prefer a boring, solitary life among the lowliest farmers. Thresh doesn’t understand that. In his opinion it’s always better to embrace your nature and bloom—

A pause. Something has shattered the peace. The wind has changed or the weather has suddenly gone cold or _something._ Thresh turns to survey his surroundings. In the distance a solitary house is built into the hillside and smoke wafts lazily up from a hidden chimney. Thresh follows the trail closer, instinct breathing purpose into his footsteps. It’s that _feeling._ All spirits understand it even if they can’t put words to it. As he gets closer he realizes that the door has swung open unattended. 

In his black heart Thresh thinks he might already know what’s inside.

He steps over the threshold solemnly, finding eerie and unfortunate quiet. A simple horned mask hanging on the wall confirms his suspicions. This is the home of a lesser devil. Thresh strides into the next room, energy tingling on his fingertips.

_Ah._

His face is not how he’d imagined at _all_ but perhaps Thresh likes this better. The startled, cerulean stare that greets him sparks a fixation up Thresh’s spine. Aching, gnawing, _festering_ obsession. He had expected a corpse, perhaps a murderer too—but not this.

Before him is the nameless demon, caught in the mortal act of murder. His single, nearly glowing sword is still in hand and stained with blood. Below him, a fresh body has been laid to rest.

 _Ahri will not believe this,_ Thresh thinks.

“What a _coincidence.”_ He breaks the silence, flashing his fangs as he smiles. A fleck of red stands out on the stranger’s cheek. “Finding you here.”

The demon doesn’t break eye contact as he straightens and his lurid gaze is _mesmerizing._ Perhaps Thresh has never seen someone so fascinating. 

Then he realizes that the demon’s sword is pointed towards him.

“You can be next.”

_Oh—I just love his voice,_ Thresh notes. A dangerous light begins to gather behind his eyes. _I love the way it sounds._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter's a little short but it felt right to end it there.
> 
> i will update this when i can. :^) i hope people still find this au interesting LOL. my biggest goal here is to make sure things aren't /too/ confusing. there are details that i'm hoping to layer and explain over time.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm trying to layer a lot of this au carefully to not be overwhelming, so hopefully more will be understood later in regards to setting and characters (yasuo)
> 
> feel free to find me on twitter (@shxmes) where i usually just talk about talon and whatever shite i'm writing. or you can drop by my tumblr (@no-shxme) where my ask box is always open for questions or thoughts or whatever else. :^)
> 
> kudos, comments, etc are very very appreciated. i try to respond to every comment, thank you so much for your support!


End file.
